


The Second Half of August

by Korkyra



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Developing Relationship, Family Drama, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 07:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korkyra/pseuds/Korkyra
Summary: Jason never liked the change of seasons. It brought forth thoughts he wasn't particularly happy to entertain.Until a Metropolis drama sets things in motion.Maybe a change wasn't that bad after all.





	The Second Half of August

Come a certain date in the month of August, Jason is all edges – sharp and pointy with a big flashy sign above his head saying _no_.

There's a story behind it, as it will.

Whenever people tell him to take vacation time about once a year, he merely redirects his focus on sweeping through Gotham's less fortunate areas concerning proper housing and decent plumbing with a high unemployment rate per capita.

Streets he knows like the back of his hand.

Streets he grew up in.

He can smell it in the chilling air around him, see it in the growing shadows as the days fall short, tucked away between the alleys he knew every brick and crack of.

The cold of winter is never far behind in Gotham, no matter the season. Also a fun fact Jason knew via his own skin.

At the first gust of late August winds, he'd be reminded of those days. Dark alleys. Deep chills settled between the very foundations of the block, broken windows, drafts all year around, the last of the sun's rays dying in a spectacular gold painfully lacking any warmth. The damp smell of earth, plaster, old sickly sweet wood, gravel, and dust. The sound of a weakly cat, already looking into the eyes of death, gone by the end of the day, with no one to miss it. All of the waste hurdled up in a corner, threatening to overflow the already cramped narrow passes between the old worn down brick buildings.

Winters weren't the source of joy for him. Neither was the snow, nor the heavy rains preceding them. Spring brought the cold sun back, summer a heavy swelter that would seep into the top floors of the buildings but never reach the ground.

All that chill pooling around his old neighbourhood somehow managed to seep into his bones, for wherever he went it followed him. He couldn't shake it off, couldn't drive it out. He'd wake up feeling heavy and rigid for no apparent reason. He'd sit up and feel his own blood run cold, thick, laggard in his veins.

Something even the blazing fires of the Wayne fireplaces couldn't soothe.

He could never settle in those rooms and feel at peace. Near the crackling wood, the heat would try and seize him, bringing much discomfort. Away from it, the chill of Gotham lurked between the heavy curtains hanging still around the window. For Jason, the curtain always swayed ever so slightly. The chill settled there, waiting to sink its claws right back in.

Alfred tried, even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to do. With his warm soups and soft bread right out of the oven. Sometimes, it managed to warm him up, even for that brief moment.

All of that went to hell in a spectacular blaze, drowned in deep murky pits, air heavy with minerals.

He'd wake up in a familiar pain, the damp draft winding itself around him in places that was impossible. He knew it, his mind would rationalize it, but the rest of him wouldn't cooperate. His fingers would grow stiff, lungs tight, breath short, he could feel the early winter frost bite at his skin, nip at the tips of his ears.

His teammates would tease him, his superiors express admiration, for he was always the first to show up and last to leave. He'd push himself in the training room to a point of many passing out a long time ago, but they couldn't understand the reason why he did it.

He'd break out in cold sweat first, only after a brutal amount of heavy lifts would he feel his blood thaw, enough for him to resume what he saw as reasonable functioning of his limbs so he could make someone's night a tad safer to sleep off, a day worth tackling, morning easier to wake up to, and sunset worthy of admiration.

Come the second half of August, the shadow of Red Hood would become indistinguishable from it's surroundings. Or, so he would think. He always had this vague feeling some crooks, dealers, and the rest of the small fries lurking about could sense his presence for the sole reason of him physically being colder than his surrounding.

Whether or not that was the case, whenever he patrolled the streets, many had a sudden change of heart regarding pulling shit off that particular evening.

Maybe he should consult Freeze about it. One might never know.

Dickie bird would merely laugh at any such notions, though he too couldn't deny the obvious regarding the total number of interventions Gotham required on those evenings.

Batman was Batman about it.

Bruce Wayne was a typical rich kid about it.

Meaning, a pompous prick.

The kind that hears of a one liner from a philosophy book all know about and no one actually having read it, thinking they solved all of humanities issues with it.

Jason couldn't help himself.

His opinions would break all dams and flow out as gracefully as the stroke of brush in a Rembrandt painting. He, for one, actually read those books. Some during his secret college life, some during the long nights he couldn't sleep as he waited for a certain bat clad person to show his stupid face after a stroll around Gotham at ungodly hours.

A few encounters and spectacular burns later, the Bat seriously considered consulting Mr. Freeze about those, before forcing Bruce Wayne to shut the fuck up.

Which ended in Bruce Wayne actually taking the advice and fare a lot better than Batman, in more things than not.

What a twist.

In this whirlwind of bad puns, atrocious discussions, and even more ghastly attempts of family pretences, one would think they are the world's most functional mess. They managed to find a thread and not kill each other off by misreading the darkest of sarcasm flying all over the premises.

Thank the Gods for Alfred.

No, the unflattering title of world's most functional mess goes over to this and otherworldly individuals over in Metropolis.

Jason swore he could tan in the amount of annoyance, to put it mildly, coming off a certain Luthor all the way from the outskirts of Metropolis whenever a certain Superman had announced he'd have a talk with him the previous day.

The highlight of the century, hands down, was on a Sunday; Alfred managed to gather all of the Bats and Robins, together, for a nice seven plus course meal Alfred organised and was dead set to have them all in one place for as long as possible.

They would never visit otherwise.

None dared to disagree.

Around dish number seven, before a buffet of various sweets and desserts, there was a slight earthquake of approximately non-existent magnitude by Richter but a whopping 11 by Batman as the gathered family members distinctly recognised Luthor's voice in the air, which compelled Bruce to excuse himself from the table, walk over to the first window, open it, and shout:

“_Will you stop pissing him off?!”_

also no doubt heard all the way across Gotham, the entire Delaware bay, Metropolis, through the walls and up Superman's ear straight to his brain.

Bruce, with his inner Batman being suppressed by his minor-in-danger radar going all out, closes the window and tells Tim to call his friend over, those two could at least have the decency to leave the kid out of their mess.

Tim, ever the wisest of them all in all of his caffeinated glory, all but jumped at the opportunity, for when Kon arrives, Damian will stop trying to stab him from under the desk, Jason will finally see what the fuss was about and Alfred was already in awe, for Kon managed to remove coffee from Tim and live to tell the tale about it.

Jason, while finding that remarkable, was more interested in meeting the one who had _Bane_, of all people, as a presumed babysitter at one point.

Dickie was thrilled because he could relate his week to someone new, since he exhausted his share of people present here.

Upon sitting back down at the table, with room made for one more with utmost delight, the minor-in-danger radar went silent, leaving the stage for the Gotham Knight to take over and figure out a plan for all the scenarios that could follow after the nuclear reactor that was Luthor at this point calms down and gets wind of where his _son, not your damn clone you protozoan alien, _went off to.

Well, whatever that was, the bat cave was basically a bunker fit for even a nuclear war, so he'll have them all seated comfortably there, if need be.

They all knew better than to ask the obvious, Bruce would never tell, but they all knew the truth.

He, and Batman, never forgot and most certainly never forgave Superman the insolence of saying he doesn't want the kid, out loud, to his cowl masked face, in public, in front of witnesses. Him, who was the official walking orphan-and-not-quite-but-if-you-squint-they're-an-orphan rescue of Gotham City.

In fact, one could pin point the exact moment the insult settled upon his bat clad person. Tim had the footage. Ready whenever.

When Kon arrived, Jason could see why that was.

He fit the unofficial Wayne adoptee requirements and description to a T.

Dark hair, light coloured eyes, something between green and blue, Jason made sure to check that later, right height, fine built, easy on the eyes and looking absolutely lost.

Bingo.

That he was half meta, Bruce would have to over look, seeing how he attempted to adopt Barry at some point, even if it was purely on reflex and he wasn't even aware of it.

Good thing for Kon that the human part of his DNA was the entire reason Luthor would go ballistic on all of them in the blink of an eye and why he had to patch up Superman's basic biology knowledge on what exactly a clone was on a daily basis.

Meaning, another possible adoption was knocked down before it could emerge by the legal parent.

Another time, perhaps, Bruce.

Now, Bruce really did have all the best intentions when he told Tim to invite the minor in distress over, but given who he was, the teen didn't exactly catch his drift and thought he was in so much trouble.

Which was quickly sorted out by the divine intervention of the heavenly existence going by the name of Alfred, with a heavy barrage of past bullshit pulled of by Jason and Damian, in hopes that would clear that no, Kon being in trouble was not why he was here.

Dickie and Tim showed a few desserts of random choice in Bruce's hands and the top of his head and tossed him out the door leading to the gardens with Alfred following him on foot with his actually favourite cake lest he peeks through the doors right back in, searching for it.

From that Sunday on, which is known as the Great Sunday Jason and Kon managed to successfully ignore Dick and his attempts in butting into a conversation, things started to look a tad bit brighter.

Until Kon proved to be a lot more observant than Jason found he liked.

The worst part was, he wasn't any of his brothers or his best friend when he picked up on the pattern Jason couldn't get rid off.

The amount of hurt and fury soaked up in his own voice when Kon asks a banal question, totally unrelated to anything going on in his own head, has Jason himself take a step back.

Not much was said in that long suffocating moment.

Kon merely closed the door behind him.

Another cold front settled upon Jason's head.

If he noticed the chill return, he paid it no mind.

He gradually became aware of what bothered him there. None of his conclusions had anything to do with this thoughts preceeding one unlikely bond.

However, as all things Gotham, one can't just come to some conclusions after a few near death encounters in the mean time and not expect the one he really needs to talk to tactfully avoid him. Not that he didn't know the reason to that pointed avoidance, it's just that he wasn't clear about the exact thorn in his side which compelled him to be a douche about it.

He also might not have been entirely honest about it.

They had been way too honest in voicing their opinions on everything they talked about, including when the other behaved like a complete asshole, for things not to possibly develop the way they did.

Still, there was no need to leash out on him like that.

There was nothing wrong with...

…

A thin wisp of smoke raises in the air as he observes the crowd bustling beneath his feet from where he's seated, surrounded by dirty cracked walls and ruined floor. The cigarette hangs from the corner of his lips, burning away, his focus is elsewhere.

He gathers a reasonable amount of time had passed, he should really see him.

Question was, whether that feeling was mutual after all this time.

One way to find out.

Which, incidentally, leads him right into another situation.

That being watching The One True Robin and his super friend hover over the building edge and attempting to break into Luthor's home.

Cute.

Kon's avoiding furniture to get to that window in record time from what Jason can gather and damn him if Dickie wouldn't be impressed by the stunt. He'll miss Damian's face upon being discovered but he'll live.

Helmet off, he nears the premises. The building doesn't spit fire at him as he enters the front, Jason's going to take that as a good sign.

Upon reaching the top, the elevator welcomes him, oddly enough, he's not sure when exactly he got listed in the hard drive as the welcome kind, not that he'll complain now.

He's greeted by an almost familiar sight, with Kon being in his element, all around the place, asking one super kid and one butt-hurt bird whether they were alright and even if he missed Damian's face the first time, the sheer insult on his face upon Jon pointing his finger up telling Kon he got a boo boo was beyond priceless.

Kon, being Kon, went for the disinfectant but not before a side stop by the kitchen to provide them with some sandwiches and Kon's got this magic ability to provide hospitality even Damian can't bring himself to refuse.

Jon doesn't even register that monumental showcase of ceasefire from a person grown ass villains were known to have nightmares over. He's happily digging in the food as he surrenders his hand over to Kon for inspection, going over his school days and how Damian was bored today.

Damian, naturally, waited until Kon turned to grab some cotton from the first aid box to land a few precise smacks on the super with gratifying results. Kon ended up smearing some soothing balm all over Jon's sudden blotches on his face.

Kon also had the good will to play along with Jason's sneak up idea, since the opportunity seemed golden. Damian was half convinced to take the offered food and the moment he did Jason sneaked up on him.

“_Feeling cosy in hostile territory, Dami?_” He whispers close to the youths ear, earning himself a loud string of profanities in multiple languages and a well placed elbow to the head, but stopping a knife from adorning his temple.

It took good ten minutes for Damian The One True Robin to stop hissing at his older brother, listing various threats and descriptions of severe bodily harm.

Jason solemnly swore not to tell anyone about this minor incident all the while laughing his ass off and dodging all kinds of projectiles flung his way. Jon wouldn't dare any way and Kon was back in the kitchen, rummaging around the cup boards, letting the Bat siblings sort it out their way.

Once the younger siblings were on their merry way, Damian still glaring sniper holes into everything he looked at, Jason finally turned to Kon, determined to address the reason why he was there in the first place.

No, he had no idea Damian and Jon would swing by from the roof top, kids these days, really, though they were amusing nonetheless.

The conversation they had went from confessing what was on both minds and in both souls to covering pretty much everything that happened last they spoke, if one could call that encounter such, having gone through a good variety of tea, leaving the tea shelf pretty much empty.

Luthor didn't even show up the entire evening, most likely having glanced at the visitor's log, leaving Kon a convenient excuse message before tending to something else that didn't include walking in the middle of a private talk his son was obviously in the middle of.

Kon wasn't giving Jason any leeway. No one single opening to omit anything. He did, however, respect the formerly set boundaries they had up to a point, giving Jason the golden opportunity to see for himself whether or not he deemed it necessary to include it or to dismiss it. Jason found himself holding on to that as if his life depended on it. There were things neither were too comfortable to hear about or say them out loud for various reasons yet everything concerning their future form of bond was laid out.

It was exhausting.

At half past four in the morning, it summed up to a decent start.

Back in Gotham, Dickie bird had his hands full of stopping a binary system speaking Robin and one katana wielding Robin from venturing over to Metropolis each in their own unique way to lend a hand because one Metropolis hero and one Gotham Special Forces member were heavily grating on their collective nerves over the past few months.

Not that Dickie didn't think what the two regularly thought. It was just that being the first adoptee in a line of Wayne recognised heirs came with a skill set of self discipline and knowing them boundaries. That was all. Had he not been the first bird, he'd be the ultimate matchmaker the moment he saw how the two sources of present frustration interacted on that Sunday. The only one who believed his superb instinct when it came to that sort of thing was Roy. Babs, too, after she stopped cracking up each time he mentioned it.

Tim would have flung both his best friend and his much appreciated brother on a ship without a second thought once his gathered data spoke affirmation – which he did, to be clear, just needed to convey that to the people he was side plotting to ship while solving cases in the mean time.

As for Damian and what his reasons to, lo and behold the miracle, agree with the rest of them were would be a heavily guarded secret for the time being. No way in ten hells would anyone get that out of him.

Duke, having declared them all in dire need of help, merely stayed out of it because he didn't see how any of that was his business other than perhaps being able to count on a new level of potential disaster and a whole lot of drama.

Stephanie's enthusiasm is what eventually turned Babs around and Cassandra didn't fucking care what was it that made Jason find a semblance of peace as long as it did.

The next time the month of August stepped into its second half, Jason found it wasn't as cold.

Not any more.

He had a sun that burned bright and warm all year long right next to him.


End file.
